“If I beat my against this desk, maybe things will make sense," Angela murmured. "Or if I beat someone else's head against this desk...." She eyed Jared speculatively”

“Hours later the blank sheet still stared at me, and I beat my fist against the desk in fury and fustration, striking it so hard my hand bled. That is how heavy a secret can become. It can make blood flow easier than ink.”

“When someone beats a rug,the blows are not against the rug, but against the dust in it.”

“Not everything is about beating your head against the wall until it breaks.”“Just most things.”

“It's my heart. It is the same as yours. I shook my head. No it isn't. Your heart has beaten for fifteen hundred years--and will continue to beat for at least another fifteen hundred--while mine will be lucky to beat for as long as Ellie's has. He kissed my hair and then pressed his cheek against my head. I will see to it that it beats for as long as possible.”

“And even now she beats her head against the bars in the same old way and wonders if there is a bigger place the railroads run to from Chicago where maybe there is romance and big things and real dreams that never go smash.”